Write me out of the storyline

I'll sleep tonight,
perhaps for the last time in this bed, in this house.
And then I'll leave and wake up the next morning
in a place where people don't speak my language
I'll ask where the sink is,
to wash my jet lagged face
but it won't sound like that.
And I'll forge a new life, a foreign one,
with new people and places and names.

And then I'll return and the world
will be different, from a hundred revolutions
and a hundred dawns and dusks.
They'll be changed, I'll be changed
and to a different bed and home
I'll go.
I'll sleep tonight, then say goodbye
and know that it will never be quite the same.
Like a pause button that's never fully pressed,
Their show goes on, mine turns and I digress.